by Wade Adrian
It didn’t take much effort to knock her feet out from under her.
Her eyes went wide.
With his luck, she’d snap her neck. So he sighed as he grabbed her coat before she hit the ground.
26
“We done here?” He let her go. The last three inches of fall wouldn’t do any lasting damage. Might scuff up her pride, though.
She growled as her tangle of limbs flew about, trying to get her off the ground again.
Her friend appeared for the first time in the fight. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Whoa, hold on.”
“Kill it!” She swung another useless fist.
Murray sighed. “Charming lass.”
The man shook his head. “A bit more, usually. She has this aversion to being tossed out of windows, though.”
“Would it help if I said I was sorry? I didn’t exactly think that through. Saving Cecil is a reactionary kind of thing.”
“Sorry?” The woman almost screamed.
The man put his hand over her mouth. “It’s a start, sure.”
She glared up at him.
“Ani, we are already way off base here. He has orders not to kill you, which is quite convenient because it means you’ll still be available and upright for your court martial.”
Murray tilted his head slightly. “Look, you guys are busy. We’ll just get out of your way.” He glanced around the room. “You see any tea?”
“Tea?” Ani narrowed her eyes at him.
“Yeah, tea. This is a shopping trip.”
“Stealing trip, more like.”
Murray untied a small pouch from his baldric, just beside the hilt of his sword. He shook it, the metal inside clanking. “Shopping trip. I brought money. We take stuff, leave money. Shopping. Granted, not as much fun without the haggling part.”
“You’re not fooling anyone. You’re monsters.”
Murray rolled his eyes. “Do me a favor and count the number of people I’ve killed tonight. Or even injured. Not counting you, or people tripping over each other to get away.”
She glanced around the room. Her shoulders slumped slightly.
The man with her nodded. “Lets just go, Ani. Even if he tells someone he ran into us, who would believe him?”
Murray scoffed. “Well that’s not very nice.”
The pair of uniformed people stood and started for the door.
“For what it’s worth…” Murray didn’t look back at them, but he shrugged one shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not dead. I’ve never killed anyone, and it’s nice to know that didn’t change when I didn’t have a say in the matter.”
“Wait… no one? Ever?” The woman didn’t sound convinced. “You were a Dark Lord.”
“For about twenty minutes.” Murray shrugged. “And most of that I was buried under rubble. I have nothing against you people, just like I have nothing against that guy.” He pointed at one of the passed out drunks. “Neither does Cecil, by the way. I don’t know what your boss has told you.”
The man shrugged. “We’re aware.”
Ani nodded. “We… were in the tower once.”
Murray rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s sort of a prerequisite for being thrown out of it.”
“I mean before that, you lout. We were there most of the day. We know that Cecil isn’t exactly a threat.”
Murray crossed his arms. “And yet there are no less than two armies amassing outside of our tower.”
The man shook his head. “Power attracts power hungry people. It’s the way of things.”
“Yeah, well, the way of things sucks.” Skeletons were lining up in the room, their arms loaded down with food stuffs. Murray gave them a nod. “Alright, lets move out.” He dumped the contents of the coin purse on the counter. He wasn’t sure what any of this stuff cost anymore, but he’d picked out a few gold coins just in case. “I think we’re done here.” He waved and the skeletons started out the door.
“Wait…”
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at the woman. “Yes?”
“Approach the tower from the west. That side has the least eyes on it, given the terrain. But our scouts are placed to keep tabs on Gomer’s people entering and your people leaving. What’s difficult for us to cross might not bother you much. Your best chance to make it back in without trouble.”
The man nodded. “It’s true. We hardly patrol that side at all.”
Murray tilted his head a bit. “Thanks.” He held the door open as the skeletons filed out, then shut it behind himself.
One of the skeletons stopped and stared at Murray.
“Yes, Jeff, we’re doing what they said because we already knew that, but they didn’t have to tell us. It’s not a trap.” He glanced back at the door. “Heres hoping it doesn’t come to a fight. I’d hate to meet them in the field.”
The skeleton’s jaw dropped open.
“It’s not funny, Steve.” Murray scowled at him. “Drop the barrel. No beer for you. Put it back. I don’t care if you’re sorry. Don’t be a dink next time.”
“My lady?”
Aldora’s eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?” She raised her head slightly. The afternoon light filtering in through the windows painted the quaint little shoe store in warmth.
Anastasia, the bright eyed and curly haired proprietor, smiled as she set down three boxes in a little pile. “As requested, my lady. I have my assistant looking for that last pair. Won’t take a moment, I promise. The ledger says they’re back there somewhere.”
“Don’t fret on my account, dear.” Aldora covered her mouth as she yawned.
Anastasia bowed her head as she backed away. Aldora adored the green dress she wore. She’d have to ask after it later.
The lovely little shop on Garden Street was the only place a civilized person would be caught dead purchasing shoes. She looked over the boxes. The latest styles from Telan, Miranos, and Rojo of all places.
She turned her head slightly when an odd… clicking sound caught her ear.
Whether or not she had truly woken up was suddenly called into question. One of the other shoppers was… a skeleton. It was just… walking around, picking up shoes. Yet, a helpful young lady was speaking to it, even laughing, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Another entered the store, garnering a cheerful wave from the staff. Aldora turned her head to find another. And another. That last one had a hideous purse.
Skeletons passed the windows outside, one walked a skeletal dog and others rode upon skeletal horses.
Had she gone mad?
“Here we are, my lady.” Anastasia’s familiar voice set Aldora at ease, allowing herself to breathe as she shut her eyes and shook her head. This simply could not be real. Perhaps she had been poisoned, or… well, who knows?
The skeleton staring at her when she opened her eyes wore Anastasia’s adorable dress, though it hung like a rag. The… thing held up a pair of lovely shoes and stared at her with empty eye sockets and a hideous grin.
Aldora sat upright, her breath catching in her throat. What… what in the world? She let out a sigh. The dark stone chamber had only a few low burning candles left to light it.
It had been ages since she had a nightmare, and that one was far and away the worst she could recall. She fell back onto the bed, trying to banish the dream. It was still very dark out. She would need to be at her best tomorrow. There simply wasn’t time for this.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that it had meant something, though. Seeing skeletons out here, making ready for war as one thing. Seeing them there, in the capital, all over Garden Street of all places… she didn’t care for it.
Not one bit.
“My lord?” Egerton’s voice in the dark wasn’t much of a surprise, given the glowing red eyes. Fifty fifty chance.
“Yeah.” Cecil sat up from his hasty bed made of all the cushions from the dining room chairs lined up on the floor. In the corner. Behind a broken cabinet. Under his coat.
“Ah, most clever my
lord.” Egerton turned up the lamp Cecil had let nearly die.
Egerton had wanted to say cowardly, not “clever,” Cecil was sure of it. Thing was, he wasn’t wrong and Cecil was fine with that. As a rule, cowards lived long lives. Boring lives, sure, but he could use some boredom right now. Entirely too much had been happening for his liking. “What’s up?”
“We just got word. General Gomer has returned. He has a comparable force to Herr Redding, and potentially more on the way. He must have been camped nearby.”
“Can’t say that’s a surprise.” Cecil stifled a yawn.
“No, but I’m afraid I must also report that the tower has… come under heavy guard. Muireach has returned from his… scouting mission, but I doubt we’ll get anyone else in or out without a great deal of attention. Gomer no doubt wishes that we don’t speak with Redding further, and Redding no doubt wishes us to not communicate with Gomer at all.”
“Can we want them to not talk to each other, just so it’s fair?”
“I think that’s acceptable, yes.” Egerton nodded.
“And I think I was kidding.”
Well, so much for his plan to slip away. The likelihood of that had just nosedived into the subbasement. Which he probably had under all the floors that still hadn’t been dug out. Maybe there were tunnels below, or… no, no. That would just have him end up like Murray, buried alive. Certainly near the top of the list of ways Cecil didn’t want to die. Swords were right up there too, though. And arrows. Fire. Trampled by a horse. Hit by whatever catapults threw about. He’d seen one once, on display at market during the patriotic week demonstrations. If someone had one of those, he didn’t want to make them angry.
He was rambling. Silently, and in his brain, but he was still rambling.
“Any idea what time it is?” Cecil rubbed at his bleary eyes.
“After midnight, but before dawn.”
A span of… six hours or so. Big window. Not really helpful. “Thanks.”
“Of course, sir. Shall I have the kitchen staff begin breakfast preparations?”
“Uhh…” He blinked a few times. “At first light. Let everyone sleep… if they can.”
“As you wish.”
“You know, Egerton…” Cecil climbed to his feet. “With all of this happening around me, I really appreciate how you operate.”
“Sir?”
“Yes. That right there. You keep this place running like a well oiled machine. Thank you.”
Egerton tilted his head. “But of course. If I may speak freely, sir…”
“Go for it.” Cecil stretched his arms high over his head.
“You’re sounding a bit… defeatist.”
Cecil rolled that around in his head. Egerton wasn’t wrong. “I guess I’m just not much of a commander.”
The skeleton tilted his head in such a way… that it really looked like he was smiling. “If you’ll permit me, my lord, I have something I’d like to show you.”
Cecil shrugged. “Already up. Might as well.” He pulled on his coat. “Where we going?”
“Not far, not far at all.”
Cecil walked along behind the skeleton, barely aware that he was moving. One of these days he was going to get some sleep. Like, the requisite amount of sleep. Maybe a little more, if he could finagle it. For all of the supposed power dropped into his lap, it had really cut into his sleep schedule. If this was power, they could keep it.
He bumped into Egerton when the skeleton stopped unexpectedly. Fortunately he was kind enough to not mention it as he opened a set of doors and held out his hand, as if presenting the outside.
Cecil stepped onto the balcony. This place had a wealth of balconies. Must have been quite opulent at one point. A balcony, you say? I’ve got fifty, you peasant.
In the darkness beyond, lit only by a waning moon when a few wispy clouds buggered off, there wasn’t much Cecil could see. A few bits of ruins. Rocks. Distant lights on two opposite ends of the little valley that was appearing as the citadel was dug out. Might as well be on opposite sides of the world to him, there was nothing else in the dark beyond them.
Were the excavators still working? They probably didn’t get many breaks, not having to eat or sleep. It looked like some of the rocks below were moving…
He blinked down at the sea of skulls staring right back up at him.
It took all the composure his half asleep brain could muster to not scream at the sight. They were, after all, his skeletons. Loyal to a fault.
“Umm…” Cecil pointed over the side of the balcony. “Seems like… quite a few more than I recall.”
“Indeed, my lord. As you know, the crown is ever calling to the dead when there is a dark lord. Many were in the buildings, and many more were in a chamber we only unearthed a few hours ago. They rise willingly, wanting only to live a little longer, as do all things. Another day in the sunlight.”
“Too bad it’s dark.”
“The dead are nothing if not patient. The sun will come soon, and when it does all those who stand against us will see the folly of their actions.” Egerton appeared at Cecil’s side. “I admit you are an… uneducated commander. So, let us begin with the introductory matters. Warlord 101 if you will.” He pointed at the sea of skulls. “We have nearly five times our enemy’s numbers.” The red eyes turned to Cecil. “Combined. First lesson: The larger the army, the more greater the commander’s diplomatic position.”
Cecil stared. He couldn’t begin to count them, and he couldn’t father how Egerton had done so. He was the kind of person to figure it out, though.
He hadn’t gone to Dire Hill wanting power. He’d only wanted a bit of dirt to plant in and a roof that didn’t have eight kids under it at night. He’d been against using the power he’d found there, or that might have found him, he was fuzzy on that one… to do anything bad. And yet right now, staring out at a near endless sea of skulls all looking up at him and just waiting for an order, for a direction… he really didn’t know enough about this world to even fathom what he could do.
He could take Heartshire, that much was certain. It would be his in no more time than it took to march there. He could sit in Reginald’s office and tell everyone else, that hadn’t run off at the sight of skeletons, what to do.
But he knew there was more. Hearthshire was one town in a county. There were others, even if he’d never seen them. He could roll up to that count’s house and do the same. Sit in his chair, no doubt larger than Reginald’s, and tell everyone what to do. Once again, those that hadn’t fled at the sight of skeletons.
That only meant he would rule the greatest, the bravest and strongest… that survived. Greatest, bravest, strongest, and healthiest. Not a bad deal.
But the world didn’t end there. The count answered to a king. The same king Gomer answered to. That man must have an even larger city to his name, and an even bigger chair. More subjects. All of them, that didn’t run away screaming at the sight of skeletons, at the whim of the Dark Lord Cecil.
27
But… why? What would he do? What would he have them do? Build? Dig? Harvest? The people were already doing all of that. And when problems inevitably arose he was probably the last person anyone would want in charge. Locusts? Tighten your belts. Invaders? Fight them, right?
He shook his head. He didn’t want it. Some would no doubt think him a fool for not grabbing what was so close at hand, but he couldn’t help but think the greater fool was one who took what he didn’t know how to properly use.
No, he didn’t want to be king. It would be like this, only ten times worse. Instead of a few pesky generals, it would be other kings breathing down his neck.
Who in their right mind would want any of this? Ugh.
A field to plow, crops to plant, the occasional rainstorm to give him a day off. All he ever needed.
Or wanted. He was already getting a headache and the day hadn’t even started yet.
He almost jumped when his eye caught a bit of movement at his feet. He took a
step back.
Ants. Ants in his brand new tower. Already. And they were on the only floor that had food, of course. Annoying little…
Industrious. Industrious little buggers. They were fighting a beetle, ants crawling all over it. It didn’t seem terribly concerned as it wandered along. It had the power to crush a few ants, even as they struggled to take it down.
More ants climbed onto the beetle each time it managed to shake one off or bite one in half. They were smaller and weaker, but they had teamwork.
He glanced back up at his mass of waiting skeletons. It would be easy enough to see them as ants ready to bend to his will. An endless stream of drones that could conquer anything given time…
But that wasn’t what he saw.
“Egerton, what would happen if we attacked Gomer? Just ignored Redding’s people entirely and poured all forces at Gomer.”
“We would overwhelm him, sir. I postulate minimal losses, and easily recouped by the fallen on his side. Such is the glory of the Dark L-
“Redding wouldn’t help him?”
Egerton seemed taken aback by the question. “The sun would sooner rise in the west.”
“Not even if it meant he had a better chance against us? An ally, even just one to take some hits?”
“His pride prevents it. Gomer is his enemy.”
Cecil rubbed at his chin. “Okay. What if we attacked Redding instead? Ignored Gomer?”
Egerton looked toward that camp. “Another decisive victory. We would suffer greater losses, I think. His men are less disciplined but there is something to be said for savagery in war.”
“Do you think Gomer would back him up?”
Egerton leaned on the railing, his eyes narrowed as they swerved to the other camp. “Possibly. The man’s code of honor would see Redding’s people as in need of help, even if he despises Redding himself.” He nodded a few times. “I believe you are correct, he would, yes. It wouldn’t change the outcome much, more or less combining them. We would still triumph, but I suppose it would be a better story for the ages than stomping on one and then the other.” Egerton tilted his head into another smile. “Already you begin to learn, postulating things I overlooked in my surety of victory.”
